


Time for a Dance

by CityofOlicity



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Jealous Oliver, Jealousy, Married Couple, Unestablished Olicity, Wedding Fluff, established olicity, married, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 14:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3414713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityofOlicity/pseuds/CityofOlicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver smiled, inclining his head until their forehead’s brushed, lips mere inches away. It was then he spoke, his voice a whisper, hesitant to break the soft silence that had settled upon them.<br/>“Do you remember our first dance?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time for a Dance

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a drabble I wrote, because I needed some Olicity dancing, and if we're not going to get it in canon, then I'm damn well going to write it. Hope you enjoy!

A myriad of colours and bodies twisted and twirled like falling leaves, bathed in the dimming light of spring, they spun, each movement seemingly random, each pair of swaying bodies giving the impression of irregularity, yet, within the madness lay a pattern, indistinct, yet present; subtle, but there. Each couple, though independent, seemed to to be moving in a slow orbit, like ripples from a raindrop, circulating inwards. At the centre of this pattern stood two people, locked in an embrace, circulating, just like the rest, but it was clear the two were far absorbed in other things. Two pairs of striking blue eyes held one another, their gazes as soft as a brush of a hand, but beneath they held a love as deep oceans, yet strong and steady as oaks. The man, Oliver, smiled, inclining his head until their forehead’s brushed, lips mere inches away. It was then he spoke, his voice a whisper, hesitant to break the soft silence that had settled upon them.

“Do you remember our first dance?” He murmured softly. The beautiful blonde in his arms let out a small, breathy laugh. Oliver felt the puff of air dance against the back of his neck, and even after all these years, it sent a shiver down his spine.

“I remember your attempt, yes.” Felicity replied, smirking, “Thank god you’ve improved since then; I’d rather you didn’t break something vital on our wedding night. I’ll need all your limbs in tact, please.” She whispered, her voice taking on a rough, breathy quality.

“Is that so, Mrs Queen?” She felt Oliver’s warm breath against her neck, a brush of his lips against her ear. Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew his azure eyes had darkened.

“Indeed it is, Mr Queen.” Felicity breathed against his ear, lacquered green fingernails tightening against the dark material of his suit. Oliver chuckled and rested his chin atop Felicity’s head, whilst she snuggled closer into their embrace, burying her head in his chest. As they swayed slowly, Oliver couldn’t help but watch the twinkling lights and swirling bodies, remembering a night much like this, the night of Dig and Lyla’s wedding, the night of their first dance.

 

**[Two years ago]**

 

Oliver was furious. He stood at the edge of the dance floor, teeth gritted, jaw clenched, watching the love of his life dance with another man. Felicity always looked beautiful, but the tonight she looked radiant. The bright light of the dance floor shimmered across her hair, a cascade of spun gold pinned artfully above her nape. She positively glowed; cheeks flushed, blue eyes bright with mirth as she laughed, the melodious sound rippling throughout the room. Oliver wished it had been him spurring that sound. Instead, it was Palmer. Tall, intelligent, handsome billionaire, Ray Palmer, whose handsome, long,  clever, rich, genius-ey hands were currently wrapped around one blonde IT girl. The bastard. Oliver heard a grinding, and realized it was the sound of his own teeth. He released his jaw and settled for folding his arms instead. He heard Felicity giggle again, the sound mingling Ray’s low chuckle. Great, even his laugh was attractive. Oliver huffed. That was the last straw. He wasn’t about to let some uptight billionaire philanthropist pretty boy ruin his night. Gathering his resolve, Oliver straightened his shoulders, puffed out his chest, and strode over.

 

“May I cut in?”

Felicity was jolted out of her reverie by a strong, low voice to her right, the sound of which instantly sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. She hoped Ray, whose hand currently lay there, hadn’t felt her reaction to the man beside her. Breaking away from his touch, she turned to look at the owner of the voice. God, he was beautiful. Felicity resisted the urge to lick her lips, as she ran her eyes up the length of Oliver’s tux clad form, admiring the way it cut across his shoulders, clinging to the muscles she knew to be present there. Flicking her eyes back to his, Felicity saw a slow smile creep across Oliver’s face, and promptly realized she had been standing there, silently ogling him, for a good few seconds. Felicity blushed, tearing her eyes from him to look at Ray. She gave him an apologetic look,

“Do you mind?” She asked.  Ray paused, his eyes flicking between the two, before an easy smile warmed his face,

“Not at all, I’ll see you later, Felicity.” He stepped back, allowing Oliver to intercede.

“Sure,” Felicity replied, gracing Ray with an appreciative smile, before turning to Oliver, eyebrow raised.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, clasping one of her hands in his own, and Felicity noted that he didn’t sound apologetic in the slightest. That thought, however, was swiftly burned from her mind by the heat of Oliver’s hand against her hip, as he brought them into a dancing pose. Felicity could feel every inch of those warm, calloused fingers through the thin material of her dress, with every brush of his touch sending tingles through her skin. Felicity looped an arm around Oliver’s neck, as much to stay standing as to dance. Bad move; from where her hand rested she could feel the short hairs along the back of Oliver’s neck, a feather light touch against her palms. A lilting rhythm struck and soon enough, they were moving slowly across the dance floor.

“I had to talk to you,” he continued, seemingly unaware of Felicity’s struggle to remain conscious, “about some..green..things..” he trailed off, giving her a knowing look. Felicity frowned, inappropriate thoughts banished for the moment,

“Really, Oliver, here? Can’t we just take one night off to celebrate Dig and Lyla’s wedding?” She admonished. Oliver’s eyes shifted uncomfortably. He pressed his lips together in a well known look of resignation, and huffed a sigh,

“Right, sure. Sorry.” She flashed him a small smile, which he hesitantly returned, and they fell into silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts as they moved slowly to the music, bodies pressed together, faces mere inches apart. Felicity let the calm of the moment wash over her, reveling in the feel of Oliver’s rough fingers laced with her own, palm to palm, chest to chest as they danced. Her eyes flicked up to meet the similarly entranced gaze of her partner. He looked relaxed, the ever-present lines of worry smoothed from his face, a small smile of contentment curving his lips upwards. Suddenly, Felicity felt a pressure against her foot, pinning her toes down and sending her stumbling against Oliver’s solid chest. She collided with him, and he released a small grunt of surprise before the force on her foot was removed and they were moving again. Felicity gaped, her eyes shooting up to meet Oliver’s own wide eyed gaze.  “I’m so sorry,” he lamented, looking slightly panicked, “did I hurt you? Felicity, are you-” He was cut off by the sudden giggle that burst from Felicity’s lips, only to be stifled abruptly as she bit her lip, clamping her mouth shut. He stared down at her in confusion, as she continued to shake with silent laughter, blue eyes brimming with tears.

“Oh my god,” she guffawed, “you can’t dance.”

“Hey, now,” Oliver protested indignantly, “I can dance,” he said, stepping on Felicity’s toes, again.  

“This is brilliant,” she grinned, “finally something you’re not good at.” She barrelled on, ignoring Oliver huffed noise of disagreement, “ I mean, this isn’t what I expected, I would have thought the whole salmon-ladder-ing, panther-like grace thing would extend to dancing, plus, y’know there’s the whole high society upbringing matter - didn’t your mother make you take dancing lessons? Oh wait till I- eek!” Felicity yelped as she was suddenly spun through the air, the world tilting alarmingly as she swooped towards the ground, guided by a pair of warm arms into a low dip. When she opened her eyes, Felicity found herself staring up at the smug face of Oliver Queen, his eyes dancing with laughter. He leaned close, and Felicity gulped, feeling his stubble scrape against her cheek, his lips a breath away from her ear. She felt a whisper of warm air puff against her neck, as he murmured,

“What was that you were saying?” Felicity managed a muffled squeak, before she was being swung upright and pressed back against his solid chest, his hand returning to her hip. It took her a few moments to recover her breath, but when she did, she glanced up to see Oliver grinning down at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Of course, he ruined the moment by stepping on her toes again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free leave feedback, comments make my life. You can drop me a prompt on my tumblr, cityofolicity, if you want, but you don't have to! Thanks for reading :)


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